


The Audition

by Glass_Ace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:18:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Ace/pseuds/Glass_Ace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester would do anything for his roommate, struggling actor Castiel Novak. However, when Castiel comes to him with an...unusual request in helping with an upcoming audition, Dean thinks he may have found the limit to his willingness to help out. </p>
<p>Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Audition

“Dean, I’m experiencing a quandary.” 

Dean looked up from his current issue of _AutoWorld_ to see his roommate standing in the small kitchen of their apartment, expression completely perplexed. Almost as perplexed as that time he managed to get the guy to go to a strip club. Talk about good times.

“Oh yeah? What’s that, Cas?” 

“I am auditioning for a role. However...it requires a kissing scene,” Castiel shifted awkwardly, then seemed to make up his mind and leaned against the counter.

Dean’s eyebrows nearly touched his hairline.

“So? You’ve kissed people before, right? Unless...you…”

“No, no, you’re correct. I have,” the other man quickly interrupted and Dean felt a little relief from that realization. Because if Castiel hadn’t even _kissed_ another person...well, that was just a whole new level of awkward naivete that was impressive to have survived a week in the city.

“Okay. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s...I will be required to kiss another man.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Wow.”

Castiel shifted again, and he looked away. Dean cleared his throat, his own eyes seemingly fixated on a crack that ran around one of the windows.

“So...you don’t know how to handle it? I mean, you’re a pro, right? That’s what acting’s all about...pushing boundaries and things like that…”

“Of course it is. Only, I’m concerned. I had an initial audition today where I did kiss a man…”

Dean was surprised his neck didn’t crack when his head whipped around to stare in shock at his friend, who shrugged.

“However, the director criticized it. I believe his words were, ‘Good actor, bad kisser.’” 

“He said what?”

“So now my concern is I might not get the role if I cannot perform a quality kissing scene. This could be a big break for me, Dean. I don’t understand, I’ve never had complaints regarding my ability to kiss before...”

“Okay, okay, hold up there, Cas,” Dean raised his hand, mind still trying to catch up to where their conversation was at the moment. “You’re sayin’ it’s not the fact that you have to kiss a dude that’s bothering you, so much as it is you’re not sure about your technique.”

“Correct. Perhaps I should practice.”

“Good idea.”

“Would you be willing to…”

“Whoa there, buddy, put on the breaks, you’re gonna have to stop that crazy train before it reaches the next station,” Dean interrupted, nearly jumping out of his seat, both hands in the air now. “Don’t you have any actor friends you could practice with?”

“None I would feel comfortable with.”

“What about regular dude friends?”

“Beyond you and Sam, I do not have any ‘regular dude friends’,” Castiel sighed, putting air quotes around the words. 

“Don’t you go to Sammy with this…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Dean. Besides, he is currently engaged with Jess. I doubt she would appreciate me trying to make out with her fiance.”

“Well, you’re gonna just have to figure something else out, Cas. Because no way am I doin’ it.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, mouth turning down at the corners.

“You know this is a big deal and you aren’t willing to assist me?”

“Sorry, buddy, no can do,” Dean shook his head, grabbing his jacket and stepping around Castiel to get to the door. “Look, I’ve gotta go. Uh, appointment. But good luck, if anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

And then he was out of the apartment, door slamming behind him leaving a frustrated looking Castiel alone with said quandary.

 

*****

 

It wasn’t until that evening that he saw Dean again, and by that point he was already embroiled in the same conversation with their friends at the coffee shop his cousin Gabriel ran.

“Hey, Cas, you ever heard that sayin’, kissin’ cousins…” 

Castiel shot his cousin a glare, and the shorter man only grinned, waggling his eyebrows at him.

“I wasn’t about to ask you, Gabriel.”

“Aw, no fun,” Gabriel sighed, turning to his next customer.

“You try asking Dean, Cas?” Sam piped up from where he was happily ensconced in an armchair with his fiancee. 

“Ah. Yes, I did,” Castiel frowned, looking at his hands where they twisted on the tabletop, “He was rather opposed to the idea.”

“Sorry, man, he can be kinda…”

“A dick.” Gabriel called out emphatically from behind the bar and Sam nodded, giving a helpless little shrug.

“He’s right. Love him and all, but he can be obtuse about some things,” the tall man said.

“Say, Clarence, what did the director say exactly?” Meg asked, the tiny brunette lounging on the couch, her feet propped comfortably in Castiel’s lap.

“Good actor, bad kisser,” he repeated for what felt like the millionth time that day. Truth be told, the whole thing had been playing nonstop in his mind. 

“Simple, then maybe that’s all you’ve gotta work on, sugar plum,” she said brightly and jumped off the couch, dusting her jeans off. “I volunteer for your practice. Maybe give you some tips on technique.”

“Are you certain, Meg? I wouldn’t want to…”

“Wouldn’t want to what?” a new voice cut in to their conversation, and four heads swiveled to see Dean joining their group, moving to flop in the last available armchair in the place. 

“Clarence here needs some smooching practice and I’ve decided to throw myself on the sword.” 

Dean snorted, shaking his head, and Castiel’s expression seemed to harden briefly before he gave a decisive nod and stood, facing Meg.

“Alright, Meg. Since you’re making the offer.” The smaller woman grinned brightly and reached up to cup his face in her hands, pressing her lips against his in a surprisingly chaste kiss. It was brief and when they parted, Castiel stared at her for a beat before hauling her close to him and claiming her mouth in what could definitely not be called chaste. It was a clash of lips, his hand tangling in her hair.

The rest of the group watched the impromptu make-out scene with various emotions playing across their faces, from delighted (Gabriel and Jess) and slightly uncomfortable (Sam) to just plain awkward (Dean). When the kiss broke, Meg let out a little gasp, licking her lips.

“Wow, Clarence, who knew?” she said, and that seemed to break the silence among the friends. Dean stood abruptly and went to the counter to buy a coffee, Gabriel’s eyes darting between him and his cousin on the couch. Jess clapped her hands happily.

“That was awesome, you guys!” she said and finally Castiel looked from Meg to her, slightly abashed. 

“So perhaps the issue isn’t kissing a woman,” he said after a beat.

“Nope, definitely not,” Meg agreed. “You know your way around a set of lips there, angel.” She fanned herself dramatically and Sam chuckled.

“Looks like your problem is just with men.” He looked pointedly at Dean who had flopped back into the chair. The older Winchester just shook his head.

“Nope, no can do. Sorry, Cas, you’re my buddy and all, but it just doesn’t seem kosher to me.” 

Castiel frowned, then glanced at his watch and stood.

“Very well. I suppose I shall have to find an alternative for practice. Excuse me, I have an appointment.”

He left, and Dean could have sworn it was in a huff, if he hadn’t known better. This really couldn’t have been that big a deal. He noticed the others staring at him and he blinked. 

“What?”

“Seriously, Dean, if you were any more oblivious…” Meg started and he scowled at her.

“Don’t want to hear it from you, lusty lips,” he muttered.

“Well, Dean, I mean, he’s got to practice with someone,” Sam pointed out, just so helpfully. “I’m not going to.”

“Why the hell not? Jess wouldn’t get jealous, would you, Jess?” 

The blonde rolled her eyes at him.

“You don’t know me at all, Dean Winchester. I’m as possessive as they get. No way I’m letting someone else put their hands or lips on my guy.” 

Dean wanted to groan at the ridiculous soft look Sam leveled on her before he continued talking.

“Gabriel sure as hell is out of the question, since he’s his cousin and everything. And Cas doesn’t really have many other guy friends.”

“He could just ask one of the guys he works with,” Dean said, and that seemed to make plenty of sense to him. Just so long as he didn’t have to keep thinking about Castiel and…kissing…and his friend’s lips on someone else’s and…

“Hey, I’m gonna head on home. Get some shuteye before tomorrow. Bobby’s got me on the crack of dawn shift, and you know how the old codger gets if I’m late,” he said and abruptly stood, walking out the door. Truthfully, he was going to go home, turn on the TV to something mindless, and down as many beers as it would take to get the crazy out of his head. Hangover would be worth the price he paid in the morning.

*****

The hangover was definitely _not_ worth the price he paid the following morning. It took several cups of sludge coffee from the body shop’s old Mr. Coffee to even start taking the edge off of the pounding headache, but it didn’t stop him from being a complete klutz and banging his head several times on open hoods of cars, then undercarriages of cars, which undermined any effect the coffee may have had earlier. 

“Boy, you got somethin’ twistin’ your panties in a knot today or what?” Bobby’s gruff voice cut through the mechanical sounds of the shop and Dean groaned, leaning out from behind the car he was working on.

“I’m fine, Bobby. Seriously.”

“Oh, so all those things you’ve been yellin’ this morning must be high praises for me for bein’ such a good boss, right? ‘Cause if I weren’t, I’d be giving you a nice afternoon off without pay.” 

“No, sorry, Bobby. My head’s just not totally with it, but I’m here now. Really here.”

“It better be, ya idjit.” 

Dean ducked back under the hood and decided to do his best to keep the cursing to a minimum today. If he was already on Bobby’s shit-list, there was no telling what could get him kicked to the curb until his ‘attitude was fixed.’

“What’s eatin’ you today, brother?” Benny asked on their lunch break as they sat outside at the old picnic table behind the shop. Dean frowned, glancing at the cigarette between his friend’s lips.

“You tell me yours, I tell you mine.” 

Benny rarely smoked—he had quit years ago, but still snuck an odd one in here and there when life was being a pain in the ass. The big Cajun sighed out a puff of smoke, shaking his head dolefully.

“Just a fight with Andrea, man. We’ve been tryin’ to get pregnant, you know. It just don’t seem to want to take. I suggested maybe goin’ to a doctor and see what’s the problem—not just checkin’ on her, but me too, maybe take a look at those fertility treatments—and she blew up. Too expensive and she believes in gettin’ it done the ol’ fashioned way.”

“Man, Ben,” Dean let out a sympathetic sigh of his own. Just Benny’s problem made his own seem pathetically small in comparison. Benny and Andrea had their ups and downs, but he knew how much they wanted kids. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, that’s how life rolls you sometimes, brother,” his friend shrugged. “‘Sides, the good things are sometimes the hardest to get. We’ll get it done, though. One way or another.”

He took another drag on the cigarette before dropping it on the sidewalk pavement and crushing it beneath his boot.

“Now it’s your turn, Dean. What’s been gettin’ you all tied up like a debutante before cotillion?”

That earned him a snort and roll of the eyes, but it was only fair to share his side.

“Nothin’ as big as yours, Benny, trust me. Just that, Cas came to me about this audition he’s got going on. He wanted some help with it, but I…couldn’t. He’s gotta kiss someone…a guy…and I mean, that’d be just kinda weird, wouldn’t it? Kissing him? Even if it’s for an audition that could be huge for him and all…” He trailed off when Benny just sat there staring at him with that sardonic little smile that made everything seem not so bad in the grand scheme of things.

“Why’d it be weird? It’s just a kiss, brother. Hell, if it don’t mean anything to either of you, it shouldn’t be a big deal. I know you’ve done a fair few games of tongue hockey with nameless floozies for less, Dean.”

“Yeah. I guess,” Dean muttered, tapping his fingers on the top of the table, sandwich and chips long forgotten. “I dunno. It caught me by surprise, that’s all. Seemed like a bigger deal than it really is.”

Benny grinned broadly and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t let it keep eatin’ at you. Just think about it like helpin’ an old friend out—you know you’d do anythin’ for Cas, and vice versa—maybe close your eyes and picture an ol’ flame of yours, Lisa or someone, instead.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you could be right, Benny. I’ll…I’ll think about it.” 

“Good deal, brother. Now, back to that grease trap someone decided to stick some wheels on.”

Dean took Benny’s words to heart and actually did mull the situation over from his friend’s perspective for the rest of the day. It was less weird to think of it as just a friend helping a friend out. Kind of like how Meg ‘helped’ Cas in the coffee shop before. Only the memory of that kiss left a sour churning in his stomach, whereas it had seemed to delight the rest of the onlookers. Which wasn’t right to him, because it should have made them feel weird too. After all, Meg wasn’t right for Cas. Cas deserved someone different. Someone way better than Meg, at least. 

When he finished at the shop for the day, saying goodnight to Benny and getting a surly nod from Bobby (even though he had had minimal incidents following lunch, thank you very much) he headed home, looking forward to a hot shower and some wind-down left over chili he and Cas had made the other night. What he didn’t anticipate was the stranger sitting in their living room when he opened the door. 

The man was dressed from head to toe in a black suit, scruffy beard and thinning dark hair, giving Dean an appraising look from head to toe that left the taller man feeling even dirtier than before.

“Ah, you must be the roommate,” the man said in a smooth Scottish accent that spoke of slime and knowing way too much. 

“Who the hell’re you?” Dean asked, stopping abruptly in the entryway and staring at him hard.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice sounded from farther back in the apartment before the voice’s owner appeared, jacket in hand. “Oh, you’re home. This is Crowley from that play I’m working on.”

The man stood smoothly, holding out his hand for Dean to take.

“Fergus Crowley. Crowley is fine, I hate the name Fergus.” Dean held up his own grimy hands and Crowley pulled his hand away with a grimace.

“Sorry, man, you look too fancy to get any grease on you.”

“Of course.”

“Dean, Crowley and I were just heading out. He was helping me with some audition work.” Dean’s head snapped back and forth between the two, staring at them as though he had actually just walked in on them at it instead of Crowley just sitting there waiting for Castiel to be ready to leave.

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yes, quite seriously. He has some work yet to do on his technique, but at least it’s…passable now,” Crowley nearly purred, shooting Castiel, who seemed very interested in the jacket in his hands at the moment, a meaningful look. “When the time comes, he’ll be locking lips with the best of them, won’t you, Cas?”

Suddenly, Dean found himself wishing he had given this Crowley a handshake. Hell, he wished he had given him a giant bear hug and gotten grease and sweat all over his fancy suit.

"Well, it'd be nice for Cas to make his big break and all," he managed to mutter out. "You two have fun with your...practicing. I've gotta go wash some of this grunge off."

He walked past the two other men, not bothering with a goodbye to either of them, just wanting to be alone in his own room without having to interact wih anyone for the rest of the day. Or the week, if he had things his way. And here he had been about to be the bigger man and maybe even possibly consider the idea of helping Castiel out with his audition practice, while Cas just had to go and bring that slimeball with his ridiculous accent and outfit into _their_  apartment, and they probably had been making out on the couch right before he came home that day and now he was going to have to disinfect the damn thing. Dean didn't even hear the door closing as the others left, he was so worked up in his own head as he paced his room. The worst part of the whole damn thing was he couldn't even begin to figure out just why the _hell_  he was getting so agitated by it. Cas was just doing what Dean suggested he do. So what did Dean care? 

He _didn't_  care, he was just pissed that it had to be a guy like that Crowley character, who had dishonesty practically shellacked into his thinning hair. Castiel should have seen that from a mile away. He made the decision to check the apartment after his shower and make sure that nothing had been stolen.

*****

Dean didn't see Castiel again until the next night. Of course, that may have been because he was avoiding his roommate, but that was neither here nor there. The day had been spent focusing on work and definitely _not_  picturing Crowley with his clutchy little rat hands all over Cas, or his mouth all over Cas's. Benny remained thankfully silent on the subject they had talked about the day before--the man was eerily good at reading Dean's moods and seemed to know that this topic was a no-no. 

By the time he was driving home, Dean had made up his mind. It wasn't even a question anymore. He had one goal, and he would do whatever he needed to to accomplish it. Sam always said he was more of an action kind of guy. Maybe that had been his problem all along here--mulling things over instead of just _acting_. 

He strode forcefully through the door (okay, so it may have been more of a slamming open of the door, but that was an accident) and saw Castiel sitting on the couch reading one of his Vonnegut books ( _Cat's Cradle,_  probably, but he wasn't really paying attention to details at that moment). Without so much as a how-dee-doo, he crossed the few feet to him, Cas's head lifting to look at him, eyes widening a little in surprise, lips parting on the beginning of a word.

He didn't have a chance to speak, however, because Dean's hands were on either side of his face, and he was leaning down and sealing his mouth over the other man's in what was unquestionably a kiss. It lasted long enough for him to register the sensation of slightly chapped lips against his own, the rub of stubble under his fingers, and the faint smell of Castiel's favorite cologne. He pulled back, sucking in a sharp breath of air, only far enough so he could see his friend's face. There was definitely shock there, though it was fading quickly into confusion.

"I decided I don't want you practicing for your audition with Crowley," Dean said quickly, voice rougher than he would have liked. "I'll help you."

Cas managed a little 'Oh' before Dean was leaning back in before he lost the nerve, pressing their mouths together again. This time it was way different. Castiel didn't sit still and stiff with surprise under him, instead instantly softening, lips becoming pliable and parting against Dean's. He distantly noticed that Cas's hands were on his arms, pulling him closer, and he went, willingly, until he was hovering over his roommate. There may have been a little noise, but he was damned if he could tell which one of them it came from. 

When Cas tilted his head into the kiss, Dean immediately went with it. It felt easy and natural to allow his tongue to swipe forward and steal a taste for himself. That seemed to loosen whatever dam was built up, and suddenly they were clutching at each other, hands grabbing and touching, pulling the other closer as tongues slicked hot and messy between their mouths. Somehow Dean wound up braced on his arms over Cas who lay sprawled back on the couch, settled in the vee of his legs, the two grinding together as Dean sucked and kissed little marks along the long line of Cas's neck eagerly. They were like a pair of teens necking right there on the couch and Dean couldn't remember the last time he had been this turned on, or experiencing something _this_  hot. And to think he had wasted all the possible time he could have been doing this with Cas, of all people.

He was as surprised as Castiel was when it happened, when the heat shook through their bodies as they rutted themselves to completion, finishing right in their pants without even touching each other below the belt. Dean lay panting on top of Cas, waiting for the freak out to happen, but it didn't. For either of them.

"Holy crap, Cas," he croaked and there was a rumble of agreement from the chest his head was resting on. They lay like that for what felt like ages and a single minute, Castiel's hand running down his back and over his shoulders almost soothingly. He might have even been able to fall asleep like that, but for the tacky feeling in his drawers, and he finally lifted his head to give his friend a crooked grin. For his part, Castiel looked thoughtful, but definitely sated. "Well, I think we should probably get outta these clothes before we have to chisel ourselves out."

Cas gave him a small smile and nodded. He looked like he wanted to say or ask something, but he kept quiet as Dean rolled off the couch, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of the mess in his pants. Dean offered the other man his hand to help him up, which he accepted, and together they stumbled in the direction of the bathroom.

"You wanna shower off?" Dean asked, the 'together' unspoken, hanging in the air between them. Cas nodded again, and this mime gig was starting to wear thin real quick for Dean. But he didn't want to be snippy, not after that little session, so he merely pulled him into the bathroom with him, letting go of his hand so he could start peeling the clothing off. He was down to his stained boxers before Castiel broke his silence, voice a little strained.

"Dean, I have something to tell you."

Oh god, here it came. He looked at his friend expectantly, hoping he didn't seem too worried or freaked out.

"I never kissed Crowley." Dean let out a whoosh of breath. Castiel continued on before he could say anything. "He heard about that audition and my trouble finding someone to practice with. What he said yesterday...he was being an ass. That's all. You walked away before I could tell you otherwise."

The relief was ridiculous. Dean grinned at him like an idiot.

"Good. 'Cause he is an ass. I'm glad to hear it, Cas. Besides, it helped kick my butt into action. You know, manning up and deciding to help you out with your audition after all." He turned around to turn on the water, resisting the temptation to whistle a cheerful tune. 

"That's the other thing I wanted to tell you, Dean. My audition was this morning." 

Dean's neck nearly broke as he whipped his head around to stare at Castiel who looked thoroughly abashed. 

"You didn't give me much of a chance to tell you," he mumbled. "And then we got caught up in the whole..." his hand waved between the two of them, and just the reminder of what they did sent a fresh wave of interest through Dean's body. "...Sorry, Dean. I know I should have told you before."

"Did you get the part?"

"Huh?" Of the reactions Castiel was expecting, that clearly was not one.

"Did you get the part?"

"Oh. That. No. Director still said..."

"Good acting, bad kisser?" 

Castiel nodded, frowning.

"Well, he's full of crap. 'Cause you happen to be an _awesome_  kisser." Dean grinned at him as he blinked owlishly. "Guess the selfish part of me's kinda glad you don't have to kiss anyone else for a role right now." 

Realization dawned on Castiel's face and a hopeful smile spread across it. 

"Well, there _is_ this one part I want to go for..." 

Dean reached out and hauled him into the shower, thoroughly shutting him up about that nonsense for a good, long while.


End file.
